Just a Game
by Nighte Thief
Summary: "It was all a game to me, a wonderful, delightful game..."


Just a Game

He wasn't supposed to die. It was meant to be me lying in a pool of blood, clothing stained scarlet, not him! He was meant to defeat me, to bring peace to our country. That's how fairy tales are supposed to end, with the hero and the princess living happily ever after. The villain is supposed to be defeated! The hero can't die- It's just not possible!

My thoughts are in turmoil as I stare at the fallen hero's prone body, my sword still embedded deep in his chest. It had punctured his heart, stopping its beating, spilling his precious lifeblood.

The princess stares at me in horror. "What have you done?" Her musical voice is barely a whisper. "What have you done?" It is now a horrified scream of pain and overwhelming sorrow. She rushes to the fallen boy's side and checks for breath that both of us know won't be there.

"I- I didn't mean to," I stammer, but both of us that it is a lie. I fully well meant to; I just didn't expect it to happen. It had all been a game up until this point- send out my minions to try and stop the hero, and laugh as they fail. Now it is a harsh reality.

"You didn't mean to." The princess's tear-filled voice is scathing. "I am sure you didn't, just like you didn't mean to kidnap me or release your monsters all over my kingdom."

"You have to believe me, princess!" I plead. "I didn't mean to kill him! It was all just a game to me... A wonderful, delightful game..." I whisper the last part, finally realizing what monster I must appear to be to her.

"Oh, so you didn't mean to kill all those people that you brutally slaughtered when you burned that village last week." I open my mouth to say something, anything, but an icy glare from the princess makes it snap shut with an audible click. "I don't care how much you didn't mean to, the fact is that you did."

There is a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realize that she is right. "Princess," I begin, but can't think of anything to say. Instead, I look at the deceased hero, his lifeless grey eyes staring accusingly back at me, the shock of his untimely death still evident. For some reason, the sight fills me with guilt, and I wonder why. I have taken countless lives before, both by my own hand and through my monsters, without a single though. Then it hits me. Before, it was all just a game, just a little something to pass the time.

The princess slowly rises to her feet, her back to me. She carefully takes the deed hero's sword from his limp hand before turning to face me. I see that her face is set with determination as she holds the ornate blade at the ready. "Face me in a duel," she demands, blue eyes burning with a thirst for vengeance.

I half-heartedly draw my second sword from the sheath at my side, the first blade still embedded deep in the hero's chest. I don't want to kill another, I realize. I don't want to murder her and leave our country without hope or a leader. "Please, your highness," I say, nearly pleading. "Don't make me take another innocent life!"

She glares at me, the hostile look telling me that I could either cross blades with her or die where I stand. "You will duel me, and do it now."

The thought that the princess had been driven mad by grief crosses my mind as I hold my blade at the ready. I decide to let her strike first; maybe she would lose her nerve, but I have no such luck. Seconds after the thought crossed my mind, she swings the late hero's sword towards my neck, and I instinctively parry, then riposte, only to have my sword knocked to the side. My mind is not on the fight, however. It is instead consumed by all the atrocities I had ever committed. I remember all the deaths caused by both me and my army, all the villages reduced to ash by my hand. I regret all that now, but there is no way to turn back the clock.

The princess must somehow sense that I do not wish to cross blades with her, for she sends me an evil look. "Fight me, if you are man enough!" Her shrill voice pierces the still night air.

I look at her, a listless smile on my lips. "As you wish, princess." I swing my sword in her direction, catching her on the upper arm. Red blood stains the pale pink fabric, and the princess grimaces in pain, but does not cry out. I am briefly impressed with her self-control, but then I look into her eyes. The once-clear blue is clouded with a thirst for blood, my blood, and an underlying tinge of something else I that cannot name. Then it dawns on me: madness. My earlier thoughts of the princess's questionable sanity no longer seem so far fetched.

The princess grins sadistically at me, all remnants of the former kind, innocent princess gone. "Prepare to die, vermin," she hisses venomously.

I ready my weapon, trying to force myself to get a grip and fight properly, like I did before this ordeal. I used to be unstoppable; all feared me. Now, however, it took all my strength to make myself even hold my weapon. I grit my teeth; I could do this. I had to do this! "Let's go."

The princess lunges forward, her pink skirts and blond hair flying out behind her. "Die!" she screams, sword glinting dangerously as it sped through the air towards my chest.

I have lost the will to move. I am completely helpless as the cold steel of the blade enters my chest. I give a small gasp of surprise and pain as my eyes widen and my sword slips out of my hands and lands with a dull thud on the grass below. Seconds later, my legs give out, and I crumple to the ground, landing heavily on my back. The air leaves my lungs in a rush, and I struggle to regain it, panicking incoherently. Finally, after what seems like forever, I begin to cough, but blood trickles from my mouth and little oxygen enters my body.

The princess smiles sardonically. "Oops," she mocks. "I didn't mean to."

I cough weakly, more scarlet blood dribbling down my chin as a trickle of air finally enters my lungs. "You... Are... Sick..." The words are nearly unintelligible.

The princess smirks. "Maybe," she says sweetly. "But I defeated you."

I force my gaze to the sword lodged in my chest and the crimson stain around in. It is close to my heart, and I doubt that I have much longer to live. Minutes, at most. The princess reaches over and slowly pulls the blood-stained blade out, causing more of the vibrantly scarlet liquid to splash onto the already soaked grass, and shortening the remaining moments of my life. I have just a few moments left to live, but as one final attempt to redeem myself, I force my protesting body over to the hero's cold corpse lay only a few feet away.

When I make it to the body, I reach up and grasp the hilt of my first sword, still lodged deep in the hero's chest. I attempt to pull it free, the insane thought that I can still fight flying through my mind. I refuse to go down without a fight! My strength fails me, however, and I can't even move the blade an inch. My limbs give out and I fall to the ground, landing on my back, chest heaving. I lay beside the hero, eyes fixed on the night sky above me, the stars twinkling pinpoints of light in the black heavens.

The princess stalks over to me, her once perfect blond hair a mess and her formally regal pink gown torn and stained vibrantly with vermillion blood. "I defeated you," she murmurs. "Now everything shall be perfect."

I cough up blood again, the crimson liquid oozing down the side of my face. "How, Princess?" I manage, breath failing. "The hero is dead."

She glares at me, blue eyes dancing with madness. "He'll come back," she says with conviction. "He always does." Now I know that our country is doomed. I was never the real threat- that was always the princess.

My vision is fading. I can no longer see the stars; they are gone. I force myself to turn my head so that I am looking at the deceased hero. "I am so... sorry," I whisper, then cough up more blood. "I never... meant for this to... happen." Maybe if I had never tried, never started this macabre game, maybe our country would be safe.

"Silence!" the princess screams, eyes flaming as she stabs me once more in the chest, causing more blood to bloom on my chest and drip onto the grass below. "You are not worthy to speak to him!" Over and over she plunges the cold metal into my body, always missing my heart, until the final time came. She impaled my heart directly, the icy metal sinking into my flesh. My eyes snapped open wide as I coughed weakly. The princess merely smiles in response. "Goodbye," she laughs, waving.

My last coherent thought is that the princess is the real evil- she is the one that will destroy our country, and it's all my fault. My vision and mind both then give into the welcoming darkness, and I greet Death with open arms.


End file.
